Wednesday, September 30, 2009

more excerpts:

Drowsing in the late afternoon heat, he started awake suddenly. He hovered in that moment between dreamland and reality. Louis felt a wave of panic crash over him. He didn’t know where or who he was for a moment.
The long lone sound of a truck rolling by on the highway was soothing. Its familiarity calmed him. It was a reminder of sorts that the world outside was still there, going by. That he was still part of that world.
Country music wafted up from the radio downstairs in the motel’s office. It reminded Louis of the barn dances he had been taken to as a child. Staying up way past his bedtime. Watching the old men pouring what he thought was dust onto the floor so that the shoes would slide easier.
He remembered how the band would come on, country-checked shirts all matching, and everybody would get up to dance. Sometimes they wore kerchiefs tied around their necks just so. It always seemed to be the same band, the same songs, they were so familiar.
He told his mama one time he wanted to be a guitar player in a country band. She had grabbed him by the mouth, making his mouth look like a scrunched O and looked him right in the eye and told him: “You ain’t going to be no honky-tonking guitar playing cowboy, y’hear!?!” “Yes, m’m.” He’d dutifully replied, not quite understanding.
Now he lay back on the bed with a lukewarm beer in his hand. The sun slanting. The music far off filling his ears.
“Damn, these beautiful Country songs about love, about heartbreak.
“Damn, why can’t I once be the guy? Why can’t I be loved so well that the loss would be so great? What’s wrong with me? Am I not song worthy? Will I never be song worthy?”
Waking up fully Louis laughed and jumped up to get a cold beer and a glass of whiskey to chase it on back.

Monday, September 28, 2009


“…and the echoing, faintly, of the one binding word. The simple word that has started wars, blood feuds and has helped to re-generate our population. O, lusty hymns sung in your praise. O, guiding light.
“When I look at the stars, especially on a cold winter’s night when they vibrate like diamonds, I am filled with harmonies upon harmonies singing out. Singing out as one. Singing out: LOVE.”

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

100 THINGS I WILL MISS: (and not in any particular order.)

1. I will miss the sounds of horses pulling their wagons.
2. I will miss the inherent beauty (and smell) of the out-house.
3. I will miss the church bells ringing out their daily reminders.
4. I will miss the shadow from the line of a woman’s hip-bone.
5 I will miss the way women can make their ponytails sway back & forth, just so.
6. I will miss the taste of the fresh spring-fed well water at The Farm.
7. I will miss lying in bed watching the sunrise at The Farm, then rolling over and going back to sleep.
8. I will miss Orion in the Fall & Winter sky.
9. I will miss the sound of river water spilling over rocks, singing.
10. I will miss the scent of a good bonfire on my clothes the next morning.
11. I will miss the smell of fresh cut pine.
12. I will miss the streets of Paris.
13. I will miss the writings of Dostoevsky.
14. I will miss the paintings, poetry & artistry of Wm. Blake.
15. I will miss the smoked meat sandwiches from Schwartz’s.
16. I will miss the Autumn in Ontario when it seems all of Nature is burning, singing out the colours of life.
17. I will miss the smell of fresh falling snow.
18. I will miss the feel of cold beer on a hot summer’s day.
19. I will miss the briefness & brilliance of falling stars.
20. I will miss Henderson the Rain King.
21. I will miss the pain of loss.
22. I will miss caring about something so much I forget to sleep for days.
23. I will miss first kisses.
24. I will miss riding motorcycles.
25. I will miss fishing.
26. I will miss Grandma Lambe’s apple pie, hot with a slice of old cheddar cheese.
27. I will miss the sound, smell & feel of Erika; my typewriter.
28. I will miss driving, all day & all night, across the Prairies.
29. I will miss moose.
30. I will miss the Moon, in all its phases.
31. I will miss black on white.
32. I will miss Székelyföld. (Transylvania.)
33. I will miss my motorcycle jacket.
34. I will miss oak trees.
35. I will miss skating, ice & board.
36. I will miss the wind.
37. I will miss the whine of chainsaws.
38. I will miss the last & first ice cream of the summer.
39. I will miss the memories of holding O.’s hand.
40. I will miss criss-crossing the continent in old V.W. vans.
41. I will miss the Banff of the 80’s.
42. I will miss kissing my love’s eyes.
43. I will miss Al Jaffee’s Snappy Answers To Stupid Questions and the empty talk balloons you got to fill in.
44. I will miss the jungle heat.
45. I will miss snowmobiles.
46. I will miss maple syrup.
47. I will miss the smell of lilacs in bloom.
48. I will miss Renoir’s paintings.
49. I will miss listening to foreign languages and making up my own dialogues.
50. I will miss the memories of my dog, Casey.
51. I will miss hearing laughter.
52. I will miss sailing boats.
53. I will miss waltzing with my Green Bitch Mistress.
54. I will miss the poems of Rimbaud.
55. I will miss daydreaming.
56. I will miss earth shaking thunder & lightning storms.
57. I will miss the terror of my nightmares.
58. I will miss Nana’s butterscotch pie.
59. I will miss swimming in lakes & rivers.
60. I will miss Gramma’s lemon meringue pie.
61. I will miss Beethoven’s IXth Symphony.
62. I will miss human conflict.
63. I will miss the first day of Fall.
64. I will miss crows.
65. I will miss polar bears.
66. I will miss cheating at Solitaire.
67. I will miss fine red wine.
68. I will miss Guinness.
69. I will miss my holy communion.
70. I will miss the I Ching.
71. I will miss John Coltrane.
72. I will miss Csilla’s cooking.
73. I will miss chess.
74. I will miss the sound of drunkards, in all languages, singing.
75. I will miss falling asleep to the sound of the surf crashing onto a beach.
76. I will miss laughing with my brothers.
77. I will miss my Mother’s smile.
78. I will miss Leonard Cohen’s poetry... & music.
79. I will miss the Thrill of The Flyer.
80. I will miss my own romanticism.
81. I will miss Mordecai Richler’s words.
82. I will miss The Fear.
83. I will miss the madness at Mrs. Tweedle’s house.
84. I will miss all the dreams I forgot to chase.
85. I will miss skiing powder.
86. I will miss saying “86 it.”
87. I will miss Beauty in all its unqualified forms.
88. I will miss the Danube.
89. I will miss having no regrets.
90. I will miss the kicks I’ve had with my friends.
91. I will miss the sorrow this life has often afforded me.
92. I will miss the pure joy vibrations of harmony.
93. I will miss the constant singing of “holy, holy, holy” in my visions.
94. I will miss Big Sur.
95. I will miss the desire to peek into the “other” world.
96. I will miss singing along to Gordon Lightfoot.
97. I will miss all my dreams I made come true.
98. I will miss the balances.
99. I will miss the conversations I’ve had with myself.
100. I will miss my memories of trying to lasso the moon.